


Another Life, You and I

by Lovely_Destruction



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: F/F, F/M, Lesbian Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24403216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovely_Destruction/pseuds/Lovely_Destruction
Summary: Susan Hart meets someone from her past and her life as she knows it begins to unravel.*Does describe non-con between Jackson and Susan.
Relationships: Susan Hart/Homer Jackson, Susan Hart/OC
Kudos: 6





	Another Life, You and I

**Author's Note:**

> Imma be real Jackson annoys me, but I love Susan Hart (And Myanna Buring!)  
> So here is a story I quite enjoyed writing with no intention of posting because Susan Hart deserves bette!

Andrea Caswell entered Whitechapple and immediately asked for directions to their whorehouse. The first person she’d asked had known and so with a smirk, she’d headed there. After a long trip, all Andrea wanted was to warm herself with a pretty woman.

She walks into the brothel, eying the women talking prettily by the stairs.

“I’m here to acquire a room. Are either of you ladies able to help me with that,” she drawls. 

“Our Madame charges extra for women,” the brunette says, a smile on her features as she eyes Andrea up and down.

Andrea smiles, sidling up to the women. “I’m sure your Madame and I can come to some arrangement,” Andrea murmurs, leaning in so her breath tickles against the brunette’s cheek.

“Miss Susan,” the brunette calls, hand reaching to curl Andrea’s blonde hair, which hangs loose, around her finger.

Heels clip against the wood floor as a voice responds, “What is it, Rose?”

Andrea freezes at the voice, looking up as the Madame walks into the room.

“She’d like a room, Miss Susan,” Rose says.

Andrea grins when she sees a familiar figure in the doorway. She moves away from Rose, slinking towards the Madame until she's in her space, Miss Susan having to look up to keep eye contact. Susan appears confused, shocked and a little worried.

"How much for a night with you, Madame," Andrea husks. Miss Susan seems to snap out of her pause as Andrea reaches up, knuckle of her finger dragging down delicate features. Her jaw tightens as she tries not to react to the woman before her.

"Our Madame does not turn tricks, Miss. But I'd be happy to accommodate any and all of your needs for the night," Rose says, coming to Andrea' s side.

Andrea chuckles. "I think Miss Susan will find it best to entertain me herself," she whispers, leaning in, hand moving to Susan's hip. Andrea's other hand cups Susan's jaw, which has clenched under her fingers, and Andrea leans in the rest of the way, lips just hovering over the shorter woman. "Isn't that right, Madame?"

Rose is looking wide eyed between the two women until her Madame sighs and steps out of Andrea's hands, shoulders tightening until they are straight and her hands are clasped in front of her.

"Rose, please show our guest to the parlour. I will be with her in a moment."

"Right this way, Miss," Rose says, obliging her Madame with no further questions and showing Andrea to the parlour. Rose stands by the door as Andrea moves into the room, sitting on a chair by the table. She beckons Rose forward, tugging the woman into her lap. Rose giggles, playing with the lapel on Andrea's coat.

"You should be honoured, Miss. Our Madame is a hard woman to persuade," Rose murmurs as Andrea peppers her throat with wet, open-mouthed kisses.

"I would not want anything but the best." Andrea eyes Rose for a moment, twirling dark hair between her fingers. "But perhaps when I'm done with Miss Susan, you would do well to find me. I'll pay triple your asking price for your time."

Rose's eyes widen and she grins, straight, white teeth prominently on display.

"Rose, please leave us," Susan's clipped tone sends the girl from the room with a nod and swift movements.

Miss Susan stands rigidly by the door, watching Andrea suspiciously. Andrea smirks up at her, lounging back in the chair, kicking her feet up onto the table under a disapproving glare. She tosses a coin purse onto the table by her feet and gestures to it, eyes never leaving the other woman’s.

“For your time,” Andrea says, eying Susan. “You’re a little overdressed.”

“What are you doing here?” the other woman asks, ignoring the look Andrea is giving her.

She moves to the table, shoving Andrea’s feet from it, leaning where they had been. “How did you find me?”

Andrea smirks. “Would you believe me if I told you it was an accident?”

Susan rolls her eyes, scoffing and standing once more. “No.”

“I was simply looking for a bed and someone to keep it warm for me, as I have every town before this one. How was I supposed to know you were running this house?” Andrea questions, standing and molding herself to the back of the Madame after she turns around. She gasps as Andrea presses a kiss to her neck. “Are you going to keep me warm tonight, Caitlyn?”

The woman who was once called Caitlyn turns in Andrea’s arms and wraps hers around Andrea’s neck. She brings their lips together, teeth clacking against each other at the fast movement. “You cannot tell anyone who I really am,” she says when they part briefly.

Andrea smirks down at her. “Convince me not to,” she goads. Her hands fly quickly over the laces of Susan’s corset, undoing it enough that she can push the woman back and pull it open, exposing her breasts. Andrea groans and dives for the exposed skin, nipping at her chest and lashing her tongue along her skin. Susan's hand falls to Andrea’s shoulder, keeping herself steady as Andrea bends slightly to gather Susan’s skirts, hiking them up around her waist. 

“Get on the desk,” Andrea growls, hands on the back of Susan’s thighs, helping the other woman slide back onto the table. She grins at Susan before throwing the skirts over her head and parting her thighs, and dipping between them.

Susan gasps above her, fingers digging into the wood of the table. “Andrea,” she groans, head tilting back.

A sharp knock on the door startles the two but Andrea ignores it, staying between Susan’s thighs, until she finishes, biting the back of her hand and stifling her moan. Andrea emerges from Susan’s skirts, grinning up at the woman and wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand.

The knock comes again and Susan shoves Andrea away, standing and fixing her clothes, glad her hair remained in its carefully tied updo. Andrea chuckles, standing behind the woman as she fixes herself, and moving for the door.

She pulls it open to find another familiar face. She grins.

“Rose said you were entertaining,” Matthew says, looking over Andrea’s shoulder, to where Susan is adjusting her clothes. “Thought they were lying.”

“There is more than one way to entertain a guest in this house, Jackson,” Susan snips, shoving past both Andrea and Matthew, who Andrea realized also went by a new name. She also knew he would not recognize her, she knew to avoid him, her tryst with his girl a secret.

Susan turns and addresses Andrea, “Were you satisfied with your entertainment tonight, Miss?”

“Yes,” Andrea replies, winking when Jackson looks back at her. “But perhaps next time, you’ll allow me the pleasure of seeing what you are hiding under all those layers, Miss Susan. Our conversation was enough for this visit, but not the next.”

Andrea watches Susan’s jaw tick, and grins, sweeping past Jackson to where Rose is waiting by the stairs. “Still, will you allow me to share your room tonight, Miss Rose? Your Madame left much to be desired and she said you were her best.”

“I’d be honoured, Miss,” Rose replies, and Andrea wraps an arm around her waist, letting the brunette lead her up the wide staircase to a room.

Andrea throws a wink over her shoulder at Susan who pursues her lips, trying to hide the tiniest smirk that quirks her lips.

Andrea figured she might just stay in this town for a while longer.

.

.

.

“Miss Andrea did not even want me to touch her,” Rose is saying, talking with some of the other girls. “But she sure touched me. I’ve never fancied women before but she almost makes it worth it.”

The girls chuckle, listening as Rose speaks of the woman who she shared a night with.

“Girls,” Susan’s voice interrupts their gossiping.

“Miss Susan,” Rose says, eyes dipping respectively. 

Susan eyes her and nods for the other girls to leave. “Your Miss from the other night would like a repeat. Are you willing to provide her with another night?”

“Yes, Miss Susan. She brings in good money for the business,” Rose replies. She pauses. “I hate to intrude upon your privacy Miss-”

“Then don’t,” Susan snaps, walking away before Rose can continue.

.

.

.

“Miss Susan,” Andrea says, tipping her hat to the Madame, who is eying her cautiously when she walks in.

Susan tilts her head in acknowledgement, holding out her hand. Andrea smirks, placing a coin purse in her open palm before turning to Rose.

“Miss Rose, lovely as ever.”

Rose giggles, curtseying slightly, batting her eyelashes up at the other woman. “Miss Andrea, happy I am to your liking. Shall we take this somewhere more private?”

Andrea grins, sweeping Rose up in her arms and leading her up the stairs.

She comes down the stairs a few hours later and glances around before slipping into the parlour room and grinning when she sees Susan. She’s under candlelight, pen scratching over parchment, and she jumps when Andrea’s arms slip around her.

“Andrea,” Susan scolds, though she instinctively leans back into the other woman’s hold. “What are you doing?”

“I want you, Caitlyn,” Andrea murmurs, tonguing Susan’s earlobe, taking it between her teeth before slipping further down to her throat. She scrapes her teeth over the delicate skin there, smirking when Susan gasps beneath her ministrations.

“Jackson will be back soon,” Susan mutters, though her chin tilts to give Andrea more room.

“We’ve never been caught before,” Andrea replies with a grin, pulling away. She moves so she’s leaning against the table beside Susan. “Besides, I thought that was your favourite part, always almost getting caught.” Andrea chuckles, hand lifting to trail her fingers down Susan’s cheek. “That time he came home and I had to hide under the bed and listen to him fuck you, because he thought you were spread and glistening for him.”

Susan swats Andrea’s hand away from her. 

“And then when he left you there, and passed out on the couch, I finished the job because he couldn’t.”

“Enough, Andrea,” Susan says, swallowing and standing. Andrea’s arm wraps around Susan’s waist and pulls her into her, squeezing her ass. When Andrea doesn’t let her go, she sighs and leans in, breath whispering across Andrea’s collarbone. “Why didn’t you let Rose touch you? She really is my best girl, I’m sure she’d please you if you let her.”

Andrea’s hands tighten, and she looks down at Susan. “Why have the meal when you can go right to dessert.” She crashes her lips to Susan’s, one hand leaving her ass to tangle in her updo. She bucks her hips, leg pressing between Susan’s and causing her to groan into her mouth. “Fuck yourself against my leg,” Andrea husks. Susan moans again, sliding down Andrea’s propped up leg and back up, quick to comply with Andrea’s request.

Andrea helps her, hands both moving back to Susan’s ass to help her in her movements. She groans as she feels Susan shuddering against her. She can’t help but watch Susan coming undone. Her head is thrown back, eyes closed, and she’s making soft huffing noises as her hands grasped at Andrea’s shoulders. Andrea reaches between them and amongst Susan’s continuous grinding against her leg, she pushes her hand up the other woman’s skirt. As soon as she makes contact between Susan’s thighs the other woman gasps loud, moaning lower and arching against Andrea. She shudders, collapsing against Andrea’s chest, resting her forehead on her collarbone.

Andrea wraps her arms around Susan, kissing her temple.

“You’ll have to fix your hair,” Andrea murmurs. “Wouldn’t want your girls to know you turn tricks.”

Susan looks up at that, seeing Andrea’s clenched jaw. She presses a kiss to the underside of that tensed jaw, feeling it relax the slightest bit. 

“Your new name doesn’t suit you,” Andrea says.

Susan pulls away sighing, fixing her rumpled clothes. “It doesn’t have to suit me. It just has to not be mine.”

“I thought you were getting out, going straight,” Andrea replies, following Susan. She doesn’t wait for a reply, pining Susan to the door with a thud. She turns Susan around, yanking her hands up above her head.

“I couldn’t. Now I ask again, why didn’t you let Rose touch you? Matter of fact, you have been doing all the touching with me too.”

Andrea presses herself against Susan again, chuckling into her ear and slithering down until she’s kneeling at her feet. “Come on, Caitlyn. You know how much I love to please.” She nudges Susan’s legs apart, pushing her skirts up once more. “Hold this,” she instructs. Susan complies, eying Andrea who is looking up from between her legs. 

She leans in, mouth going to work and Susan trembles. “We can’t keep doing this,” Susan murmurs, though her hips buck at one thorough lick.

When Susan comes again, Andrea pulls away, still kneeling, before she lays her head against Susan’s thigh. After a moment, she feels Susan’s hand carding through her hair. She sighs. “I missed you,” she murmurs. “I wonder how many in this town have pictured themselves between your thighs. How many men have thought of your mouth around their cock.”

She smirks and looks up, standing until her gaze is looking down at Susan. She looks debauched, and she looks like she’s trying not to show it. Andrea smirks again, leaning down and kissing Susan soundly on the mouth, pressing her tongue to the seam of Susan’s lips until they part before her. She sweeps her tongue into the other woman’s mouth, deepening the kiss.

She breaks the kiss, leaving Susan gasping.

“What is keeping you in this town?” Andrea whispers.

Susan’s eyes widen at that.

“Rose told me you were trying to leave. So I ask again. What is keeping you in this town?”

Susan sighs. “Not what,” she murmurs, “who. I owe a debt to a man and he expects me to pay it with my flesh. He thinks I’m a hypocrite for running a whorehouse but not being one myself.”

Andrea’s hands tighten on Susan’s arms. “Tell me where to find him. I will square up your debt and you can be free of this town.”

Susan’s eyes search hers. “I cannot ask that of you.”

“You did not ask.” Andrea leans in, thumb stroking across Susan’s cheek. “Caitlyn Swift did not die so Susan Hart could be owned by another man.”

Susan whispers the man’s name into the quiet room.

“Consider it done,” Andrea whispers. She kisses Susan’s temple before pulling back and sliding her away from the door. “I’ll be back for another room soon,” she promises, winking.

She slips from the building, Susan straightening her skirts as she watches her go. A creak of the stairs causes her to startle. Looking up she sees Rose, making her way down quietly.

“What are you doing up, girl,” Susan says.

Rose looks her up and down. “Offering to help you fix your hair before your husband gets home.”

Susan reaches up, tentatively touching now loosened curls. “Thank you,” she murmurs, turning, hearing Rose following her. She sits back in her chair and Rose comes up behind her, dutifully unpinning Susan’s hair.

“Miss Susan,” Rose begins hesitantly.

Susan hums, picking her pen back up to finish what she started earlier.

“You knew Miss Andrea before she walked in.” It’s said simply, no judgement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rose.”

“Miss, I’ve never seen you as ravaged as you look now. But you look happy and when you saw her that first day, I don’t know Miss, but it wasn’t with hate like you want us to assume.”

Susan smiles softly as Rose hands her the pins from her hair, though she hides it when she turns. “Thank you for your help, Rose.”

Rose nods, bowing her head. “Of course, Miss Susan.”

.

.

.

Jackson had been drinking. She could smell it on him as soon as he entered the room and strode over to her, encroaching her space as she sat behind her desk, working the numbers from the day.

“Get up,” he says, hand wrapping around her wrist. “I want you tonight.”

“I’m busy,” she mutters, yanking her wrist back. She’s hoping that if she ignores him, he’ll go find one of her girl’s legs to crawl between for the night and leave her be.

Instead, he grabs both her arms, dragging her up and turning her around, until she has to look up at him. “You are my wife,” he snarls. “You have to attend my needs whenever I wish. And right now, I want to bend you over this desk and fuck my wife.”

“You’re drunk,” Susan tries to reason with him, seeing in his eyes that he wasn’t going to let this go.

“Even better,” he whispers into her face. His hands move to her waist, turning her roughly and shoving her top half down over the desk. “Stay down, Susan.”

“Stop, Jackson,” she says, trying to push herself back up. He holds her down with one hand, other hand lifting her skirts up past her waist and yanking down her underclothes. “Matthew, please,” she whimpers as he kicks her feet farther apart. 

“Be the good wife and take care of your husband’s needs,” he husks into her ear. He leans down, putting a hand behind her knee and pushing her leg up onto the desk, so it’s bent and she’s spread before him. He runs his hands down her figure, smirking before lining himself up and shoving forward into her, ignoring her cry. He thrusts into her, breath huffing against the back of her neck. She sucks in a pained breath as his hips snap against hers over and over again until he groans, hand twisting into Susan’s blonde hair and tugging her up against him as he thrusts in one last time, emptying himself into her and collapsing against her back.

She felt overwhelmed, too hot as his weight pressed against her. She tried to stifle the sobs rising to her throat at the pain she was feeling between her thighs and maneuver from under him.

He grunts at her movements, pushing off her back and sliding out of her, tucking himself back into his pants. He’s smirking down at her, patting at her shoulder. “See, a good wife, taking care of her husband’s needs.”

In a fit of rage she whirls on him, shoving at his chest. “Get out!” she screams, pushing him towards the door. “Get out of my house!”

“Enough, Susan,” he argues, grabbing for her wrists. 

She shoves him again, his back slamming against her bedroom wall. “Get out! And until you pay rent, or for the girls, don’t come back! Get out, Jackson!”

He looks shocked as she reaches around him, flinging open her door and shoving him again. He stumbles out into the hall and Susan is too busy shoving him further down it to notice some of her girls peeking into the hall.

“Get out!” She snarls, shoving him towards the stairs. “You won’t touch me again, Jackson. I’m done.”

“Susan,” he says, hands raising in a placating gesture.

“Get out!” she screams again, collapsing to the floor, sobs wracking her body. She covered her face with her hands, sobbing into them.

“Susan,” he says again, stepping closer. Rose’s hand on his arm stops him.

“I think it best if you leave, Captain Jackson,” she murmurs, moving to her Madame’s side.

He scoffs but turns, the girls watching him go, the front door slamming behind him.

“Miss Susan,” Rose says, voice soft. She places her hand gently on Susan’s arm. “Are you okay?”

Susan takes a shuddering breath, trying to wipe at her eyes and get rid of the evidence. “I’m okay, Rose.” She glances around, sighing wearily when she sees all her girls coming from their rooms.

The girls jump when the front door slams open. “Where is she?” Andrea’s voice commands as her gaze sweeps the lower floor.

“We’re up here,” Rose calls over the bannister, where she had gone when she heard the door, worried it was Jackson again.

Andrea looks up, bounding up the stairs two at a time. She sees Susan, collapsed on the floor, and drops to her knees in front of her. She cups Susan’s chin, thumb already wiping at the tears on her cheek.

“You okay, love?”

Susan nods, but tears form again. She clears her throat. “I’m sorry, everyone,” she says, looking at her girls.

Andrea shakes her head, standing and takes Susan’s hand when it’s held out to her. She helps the other woman up. “Don’t apologize,” she whispers. Susan starts towards her room again, wincing and Andrea follows her. “Leave us, girls,” Andrea murmurs before closing the door to give them privacy.

When she turns towards the room, she sees Susan staring at the desk, where her papers have been shoved out of order. She reaches out, tentatively touching the small of Susan’s back. “I’m okay,” Susan says, though her arms are curled tight around herself. “Though I need to draw a bath. I think I’m bleeding.”

Andrea’s gaze darkens, glad Susan can’t see her expression. “What happened, Caitlyn?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Susan’s hand comes up, wiping at her cheek, and Andrea moves in front of her. “Nothing I haven’t had to deal with before. He was drunk, and he wanted me to perform my wifely duties.”

“I’ll kill him,” Andrea growls.

Susan chuckles, smiling wistfully. “If only it were that easy,” Susan replies. She pauses. “But I think he hurt me this time.”

“I’ll get one of the girls to draw you a bath,” Andrea says, turning. Susan grabs her arm, stopping her movements. 

“In the morning,” Susan says. Her hand shakes, whether from fear or anger Andrea doesn’t know. She pauses. “Could you stay?”

Andrea smiles softly. “Get changed into your night clothes. I will be right back.”

Susan nods and Andrea slips out through the door. Rose is hovering by the door, eyes wide. “Is Miss Susan alright? I’ve never seen her that shaken up by Captain Jackson before.”

“She’ll be fine, Rose. Do you know where I could find a washcloth?”

Rose nods and retrieves one for her, the fabric slightly damp. “Take care of her,” Rose says, hand lighting on Andrea’s arm. 

“I will,” Andrea murmurs, knocking on the bedroom and slipping back in. Susan is turned from Andrea on the bed, nightdress lifted as she assesses the damage. Andrea moves and kneels before Susan, hand coming up to rest on her knee. 

“I was right, I am bleeding,” Susan murmurs, the blood on her thighs evidence of that.

“May I?” Andrea whispers, holding up the cloth.

Susan nods, and Andrea is gentle as she wipes away the blood. Her touch is gentle compared to Jackson’s, and Susan can’t help the tears that build and drip down her cheek as she leans back slightly, taking in a shuddering breath.

Andrea’s eyes meet hers, a soft smile to them. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Susan replies, laying on her back as Andrea stands. “Tired mostly.” She throws an arm over her eyes and breathes deeply. 

“Get into bed,” Andrea commands softly, tossing the cloth onto the top of the fireplace. Susan is slow to reply and when Andrea turns back to her, her heartbreaks. The normally strong, imposing woman looks so small in her large canopy bed. 

“You’re going to stay, right?” Susan asks, looking up at her. 

Andrea nods, slipping in beside her, still in her trousers and silk blouse. “I’ll still be here when you wake up,” she murmurs and opens her arms. Susan tucks herself into Andrea’s hold with a soft smile. Her body relaxes as Andrea begins stroking through her hair. “Sleep, Caitlyn. Sleep.”

And so Susan drifts off, cradled in Andrea’s arms.

.

.

.

When Susan wakes up the next morning, she can sense eyes on her and buries herself further into the warm embrace of her bed partner. The woman chuckling disrupts her and she lets out a short grunt of complaint, causing the woman to chuckle again.

“Goodmorning,” Andrea murmurs, pressing a kiss to Susan’s temple.

“Did you sleep at all?” Susan asks, peering up at Andrea.

Andrea shrugs. “Not so much. I was worried.”

Susan turns, peering out the window. Her brow furrows. 

“Your girls can handle themselves for a few hours. They’ve been busy most of the morn’ already.”

Susan pushes up, stretching. “It’s not them I’m worried about.”

“I’ll sneak out, they won’t know I stayed the night as anything but a friend.”

“I’m sorry,” Susan murmurs, frustrated at their situation. “If we could…”

Andrea chuckles, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to Susan’s shoulder. “I’m sure if we could you would have run with me when I proposed it back in Chicago. But alas, easier times will come for women who fall into bed with women.”

Susan looks over her shoulder sharply. “And yet if you were paying for it, these men would ask to watch.”

“I’ve never had to pay for you, have I Caitlyn?” Andrea purrs, brushing blonde hair from a pale shoulder. “Oh, but how they would love to watch. Hell, I would pay to watch you come undone, over and over again, hand between your thighs, breasts heaving. You beg so prettily when you want me to touch you, your eyes dilate and I leave pretty little bruises on your skin, claiming you as mine.”

Susan’s breathing hitches and she grips the bedsheets between her fingers tightly. But Andrea doesn’t touch her, won’t after what Jackson did. Not unless asked.

“But you hate the teasing, hate when I wind you up so tight. You just want that sweet release and without fail your hand gets to work, slipping two fingers into yourself.”

“Andrea,” Susan moans, and Andrea can see the way her skin flushes. She chuckles again, but before she can continue a knock comes on the bedroom door.

Susan clears her throat, standing and grabbing a silk robe to wrap around her shoulders before she pulls open the door. Standing there is Inspector Reid.

Susan looks momentarily startled and a girl speaks slightly behind the man. “I’m sorry, Miss, he insisted on coming in.”

“Inspector Reid, what brings you to my house? Not a raid so early in the morn’ this fine day,” Susan says, waving off the girl.

“Feeling under the weather, Madam,” he questions, a brow rising at her attire. 

Susan’s jaw clicks as it tenses and she wraps the robe tighter around herself. “If I should take a day to myself, Inspector, it is no concern of yours.”

“My business is not with you, Madam,” he says, gaze flicking to where Andrea stands by the bed, arms crossed in front of her. “Silas Duggan was found dead this morning and witnesses placed your bedfellow at the scene yesterday.”

Andrea steps forward. “You think I killed the man?” she questions, voice rough as she narrows her eyes.

“I need to bring you in for questioning, Miss Caswell. That is all.”

He nods and two of his officers move into the room, brushing past Susan roughly to grab Andrea’s arms.

“How did you know I was here?” Andrea questions, not speaking on the matter at hand, but allowing herself to be pulled from the room. 

Reid’s gaze flicks to Susan. “Captain Jackson placed you here last night, and guessed you would still be here. It seems he wasn’t wrong, Miss. He was sporting some pretty nasty wounds of his own.”

“The _ drunk _ I call husband probably fell on his face, going to gamble away more of this house’s earnings,” Susan snarls, following the small group as it makes its way to the front door.

Andrea is silent, watching Susan a moment before she turns to Reid. She tilts her head at him and he leans in. She whispers something Susan struggles to hear, worry creasing the shorter woman’s brow.

Inspector Reid sighs, nodding and stepping back. He motions for his men to let Andrea go. She smiles softly, “thank you.”

Andrea turns, taking Susan by the arm and tugging her into the parlour. She turns Susan towards her, taking her hands and tugging her closer. She breathes deeply, forehead resting against Susan’s. And when she opens her eyes again, she sees Susan’s clear blue eyes, roving her features.

“What did you tell Reid, to get him to let you go?” she murmurs softly.

Andrea chuckles, lifting Susan’s hand to press a kiss to her palm. “He has not let me go. He’s simply giving me a moment before they take me, and I confess to what I have done.”

Susan’s eyes widen and she yanks her hands back, breath catching in her throat. “I beg your pardon?”

“You are free,” Andrea whispers. “You can leave. You can stay. Whatever your heart desires, you are now free to do.”

“This is not what I wanted,” Susan says, shaking her head.

Andrea stops her from turning away, grasping at her shoulders to pull her close once more. “It is what you deserve, Caitlyn,” Andrea whispers. “The world. You deserve the world, one that is your own. So please,” Andrea says, cupping Susan’s cheek to get her to meet her eyes. “Do not do something foolish. Let me go and do this for you, for the life I could not give you before this, I give all I can to you now.”

A tear rolls down Susan’s cheek, and she chokes out a soft sob, clutching at Andrea’s shirt.

Andrea wraps her arms around Susan’s shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug and pressing a kiss to her temple. “I love you, Caitlyn Swift.”

Susan looks up and cups Andrea’s cheeks, pulling her down until their lips meet. 

Andrea pulls away finally, removing Susan’s hands from where they’ve tangled in her shirt. She doesn’t say anything else, but leaves Susan choking back sobs in the parlor room.

She claps Reid on the shoulder. “I’m ready, Inspector.” She holds out her wrists and one of his men clasp a pair of iron cuffs around them.

One of the men takes her arm, beginning to lead her away just as Susan is hurrying from the parlor.

“You should know, Susan, Duggan signed before witnesses his properties and estates to you should something of this nature befall himself,” Reid says, pausing when the blonde woman comes into view.

Susan glances past him, seeing Andrea’s smirk before she is led away.

“The paperwork will need to be confirmed and officiated once his autopsy is done. But I should think nothing else will come between the transference of his properties.”

Reid nods once, before taking his leave, moving to catch up with his men and Andrea.

“Miss Susan,” Rose says softly, coming up behind her Madam. “Are you alright?”

Susan wipes at her cheeks, turning with a clenched jaw. “If you should happen upon my husband, tell him he is no longer welcome at this establishment. Inform him also that his tab is expected to be paid by the end of the month.”

“Yes, Miss,” Rose says before taking her leave.

Susan heads for her room, dressing and walking with determination towards the station.

She enters, immediately seeing her husband, and her eyes narrow. He indeed was sporting bruises to his face, his lip split open and a large gash across his cheek.

“Susan,” he says, moving towards her.

The minute he is close she winds back and slaps him, the sounds resonating through the front entrance. Several officers peer over at them.

“The next time you address me, sir, will be in court. I am filing for divorce.”

She turns and gets Arthurtons attention. “Find me Inspector Reid, sir.”

“No need, Miss Susan,” Reid says as he emerges from a back room. “Please, step into my office. I expect you are here to discuss sensitive matters.”

Susan raises her chin, following the man towards his office.

“What is it you wish to discuss, Miss Susan?” he asks as he closes the door behind her.

“I wish to know what is going to happen with Miss Caswell.”

Reid sighs, sitting behind his desk. “I am not at liberty to discuss ongoing cases.”

“Please, Inspector, as a favour,” Susan says, sighing wearily. “I’d like to know.”

He taps his fingers on his desk, glancing out behind her before his gaze lands on hers once more. Her gaze has not wavered once, finding his levelly. 

“Miss Caswell has confessed to killing Silas Duggan and severely injuring one deputized Homer Jackson. Jackson has corroborated her story of his attack and another witness places her leaving the murder scene. She told us where she got rid of the weapon used to kill Duggan and I have men on their way there now to retrieve it.” He pauses. “By the end of the week, I suspect that Miss Caswell will be meeting with the gallows.”

Susan blinks, swallowing shallowly, her jaw clicks.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t the outcome you wished, Susan-” he begins, cut off when she speaks.

“You cannot tell anyone the things you learned in my house today. They cannot know of my connection with Miss Caswell.”

Reid leans forward. “Whom you chose to bed, Madam, is no one’s business but your own.”

Susan looks at him sharply at that. “Miss Caswell was a friend, nothing more.”

He nods, though she knows he is not convinced by that statement. “Not many of my friends would murder someone in cold blood for me,” he murmurs. “Regardless of her relations to you, Miss Susan, I’m sorry you must go through this. If you wish, I can allow for a moment of time with her. To say goodbye.”

Susan stands, taking a breath. “I will be at her hanging, Inspector. You understand I cannot see her now.”

“I understand,” Reid says. 

Susan hesitates, hand on the doorknob. “Only for a moment.” She cannot let the opportunity to see her pass, regardless of how much she wished to forget the woman.

Reid nods, leading her through the station to the cells. He nods at the watchman. “A moment, sir.”

The watchman nods, leaving the room and Susan finally looks up to see Andrea, laying back on the cot in the cell, leg propped up and an arm thrown over her face.

“If that’s you, Jackson, I’ll be more than willing to give you matching bruises on other parts of you.”

Susan frowns at the mention of her husband.

“You have five minutes. That’s all I can give you,” Reid says.

Susan nods as Andrea’s arm pops up. “Thank you, Edmund.”

Andrea stands, moving to the bars of the cell, brow creasing. Reid steps out, leaving just Susan and Andrea.

“Why are you here?” Andrea asks when Susan says nothing.

Susan is angry. Furious really, and she huffs, crossing her arms. “What are you doing here? How could you do this, Andrea? You let yourself be caught. In all the years I’ve known you, you let this be your fall?”

Andrea frowns, stepping back from the bars. “You came here to yell at me.” She chuckles. “Only you, in the face of my death, would yell at me.”

Susan hates the way her heart stutters at those words, and she hates the way Andrea seems to be dismissing her concerns. “This is no laughing matter.”

Andrea beckons Susan closer, taking her wrist through the bars. “Go, far from here, Caitlyn. Get out of this shithole town, get far away from these shit people. Go somewhere they will worship the ground you walk on.”

“No one will ever do that,” Susan scoffs, yanking her wrist back.

“I would have. I did,” Andrea says, voice breaking. She turns, refusing to look at Susan any longer. “Go, Caitlyn. Like you do best. Just go.”

Susan wipes at her eyes before the tears building there can fall. She whirls from the cell and the woman in it. “I never wanted you to die for me,” she whispers before she leaves the room. The watchman slips back into the room and Reid is waiting for her.

“Did you get your goodbye?” he asks, softly.

Susan grits her teeth. “We do not say goodbye. It is not who we are.”

.

.

.

The week passes, and Susan stands behind Reid, waiting for Andrea’s appearance at her hanging. Jackson appears at her side, hand reaching for her.

“Susan, we need to talk,” he murmurs into her ear, hand resting on her waist.

She jerks away from him, stepping towards Reid. He glances at her curiously. “Are you sure you want to be here?” he asks

“I would not be anywhere else on this day,” she murmurs.

The gate to the courtyard opens and the three watch as Andrea is walked in, shackles around her wrists. Her eyes immediately meet Susan’s eyes and she sighs, shaking her head. 

When she is up near the rope she will be hanging from, the priest begins reading from his bible.

Susan takes a shuddering breath, tears wetting her lashes. “I’m going to kill her.”

“Well, when she hangs you won’t have to do much else to kill her.”

Susan whirls on Jackson, slapping him across the face. He grabs her wrist, raising his other hand at her. “Captain,” Reid warns.

“It’s your fault she’s even up there,” Susan snarls.

“I wasn’t the one who attacked myself, for no reason.”

“No reason!” Susan exclaims, shoving him away from her. “If you hadn’t come home drunk and forced yourself on me, she wouldn’t have felt the need.”

Reid looks at Jackson sharply.

“Hey, I’m trying to die up here,” Andrea drawls. “If I could go in a quieter setting, that would be nice.”

Susan looks up at that. Heart crashing through her chest as she comes back to the present. But as the bag is lifted above Andrea’s head, the woman lashes out.

She shoves the Priest, sending him over the edge of the platform. He lands with a sickening crunch. Next was the man behind her, she drops, sweeping his feet out from under him and knocking his temple with her elbow. When she’s standing again, she smirks, winking down at Susan. Susan is gaping, matching expressions of shock on Jackson and Reid’s faces. 

“Sorry to be missing my appointment, Inspector, but I think we both knew it was not going to be occurring this afternoon,” Andrea calls, reaching for the keys on the man’s belt. She unshackles herself and Reid and Jackson jump into motion, moving for her.

“Did you know she was going to do this,” Reid questions Susan as Jackson hops up the stairs. 

But by her expression alone he knows she expected the other woman to die this day.

Andrea kicks out a foot at Jackson, sending him sprawling down the stairs, and jumps for the roof. She swings herself up, saluting Susan and winking.

“In another life, Susan Hart. Come find me in another life.”

And with that she is gone. Susan smiles softly, turning as Jackson and Reid go after her.

.

.

.

Susan is sitting at her vanity, running a brush through her hair and thinking on the past month. Andrea escaped her hanging, Duggan was dead, and she was divorced from Jackson.

She was figuring out what her new life would look like, and thinking perhaps this little part of London wasn’t the place for her anymore.

She barely has time to register the shadow in her vanity mirror before a hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled, screaming into the hand until she looked up, seeing who it was in the mirror. At the familiar smirk her fight slackens, and the hand moves away.

“Miss me, love?” Andrea murmurs, kissing Susan’s cheek.

“Why are you here?” Susan questions, looking to her bedroom door. “How?”

Andrea drops to her knees by Susan’s side, taking the blonde’s hands between her own. “I told you, Caitlyn. Another life. This is it. Come with me now and we can go. What do you say?”

Susan pauses a moment, gaze roving Andrea’s features before she allows a small grin to stretch her features. She surges forward, pressing her lips to Andrea’s. 

_ “Yes.” _


End file.
